Canyon Country Zephyr page 6

<<Prev                                                   Home                        PDF                              Next>>

In 1994 Mike Marooney traveled into the Utah
wilderness from the West Coast to open a
Mexican Cantina. For several years, Moab was
either blessed or cursed or both by the "Man
WHo Had Cjicken on his Fingers." And for
about a year, Mike shared his observations
with Zephyr Readers...here is a sampling.

The Marooney Files #1

the horrors of summer camp and at the very end says, "It stopped raining, gee that's better, Mudda, Fadda, kindly disregard this letter". Yes, quite a unique quality in us humans. When we get to clawing and scratching for survival we seem to lose our ability to completely digest available information prior to forming an opinion and reacting.

What does this mean to you? Well, if ya live here it means that the general mood of the populous will be pleasant. You can expect your friends & neighbors to be reasonable and tolerant and ,of course, it's the optimum time to confront your neighbor about removing the six car carcasses from his front yard. Ah, and for the visitor, it don't get any better. We're far enough along that we got the game down and yet not heeled (healed?) enough that we can afford to not give a shit. Plus physically, our initial pain and suffering from restructuring our bodies to accommodate the requirements of the season verses the winter mode, has been completed.

"Sorry folks. Marooney's full of gin this month. Me and the boys are gonna sober him up and he'll be back to his old self in no time at all."

Refried Darkness

I'm forty-three years old, my body has gone to seed and believe me when I say, "I'm too old for this shit"! You see, when I moved here I hadn't worked in four years and the combination of societal pressures as well as a considerable amount of pent up energy brought about the purchase of this little Taco Emporium on the other side of the tracks. Which was all well and good with the energy reserves on hand at that time but...the past three years have taken their toll.

Let me give you a little insight into what this past week was like. For starters, we were boiling and picking 80 pounds of chicken and 40 pounds of beef every day Then you got your 20 gallons of salsa, 2 cases of lettuce, 60 pounds of cheese, 50 pounds of beans, 20 pounds of rice and an endless array of culinary fixins'. Then jus to make sure we weren't stricken with that pesky boredom syndrome, I booked a group of forty-five for six days of breakfast, lunch and dinner.

There's something really special about leaving work at midnight and being back at 4:30 a.m. All of my cooks quit at least once during the course of the week, some never actually walked out the door, others walked and came back the next day. Yes ours is a land of extremes. We get some sprinkles of moderation but for the most part it's always "ONE DAMN THING AFTER ANOTHER"!

This was my fourth JEEP SAFARI experience and without a doubt, the best one yet. The participants were fun loving and free spending. For those of us that weren't completely recovered from that miserable excuse of a season last year, if it didn't complete the heeling (healing?) process, it certainly put the light at the end of the tunnel in plain view. To the Moab Four Wheelers and all the other folks that work so hard at putting on this event, you done good and thanks!

As stifling as these times can be, there are advantages. Something about stuffing money in your pockets has an effect on one's priorities. Just a few weeks ago conversations were chock full of Wilderness Commission, zoning changes and a multitude of other things that we just couldn't let happen. Any conversations I been involved in lately were brief and simply touched on weakened physical condition and monetary gain. It would have been a great week to put tn the tram.

It's kinda like that Allan Sherman song, "Camp Granada", You know, "Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda...". The kid at camp goes through a long drawn out rap about

So like, HAPPY DAYS! Those that project a constant indescribable tone of horror that was just recently a part of our daily lives have been silenced. Overpowered by the ring of cash registers and sighs of relief. Soon enough, the stress and strain that forges our existence will catch up and once again have us by the short hairs. Meanwhile, I suggest to one and all, "ENJOY"!

Since of course, being directly involved in the tourist industry, there is no doubt some bias on my part, I have taken the liberty of asking William Schultz a well respected member of our community and practicing attorney to comment on our world through his eyes. It is my sincere hope that he has accomplished this task cause I got to go get it and bring this over to Stiles. If not, excuse my shortness. See Yal

(Editor's note: We never heard from Mr. Schultz; at last report Big Bill had been abducted by a band of Deadheads and was being held incommunicado at an undisclosed location.)

By the time we got here, Marooney was gone...

But his FOOTPRINTS were everywhere!

<<Prev                                                   Home                        PDF                              Next>>

	<<Prev Home PDF Next>>

	In 1994 Mike Marooney traveled into the Utah wilderness from the West Coast to open a Mexican Cantina. For several years, Moab was either blessed or cursed or both by the "Man WHo Had Cjicken on his Fingers." And for about a year, Mike shared his observations with Zephyr Readers...here is a sampling. The Marooney Files #1 the horrors of summer camp and at the very end says, "It stopped raining, gee that's better, Mudda, Fadda, kindly disregard this letter". Yes, quite a unique quality in us humans. When we get to clawing and scratching for survival we seem to lose our ability to completely digest available information prior to forming an opinion and reacting. What does this mean to you? Well, if ya live here it means that the general mood of the populous will be pleasant. You can expect your friends & neighbors to be reasonable and tolerant and ,of course, it's the optimum time to confront your neighbor about removing the six car carcasses from his front yard. Ah, and for the visitor, it don't get any better. We're far enough along that we got the game down and yet not heeled (healed?) enough that we can afford to not give a shit. Plus physically, our initial pain and suffering from restructuring our bodies to accommodate the requirements of the season verses the winter mode, has been completed. "Sorry folks. Marooney's full of gin this month. Me and the boys are gonna sober him up and he'll be back to his old self in no time at all." Refried Darkness I'm forty-three years old, my body has gone to seed and believe me when I say, "I'm too old for this shit"! You see, when I moved here I hadn't worked in four years and the combination of societal pressures as well as a considerable amount of pent up energy brought about the purchase of this little Taco Emporium on the other side of the tracks. Which was all well and good with the energy reserves on hand at that time but...the past three years have taken their toll. Let me give you a little insight into what this past week was like. For starters, we were boiling and picking 80 pounds of chicken and 40 pounds of beef every day Then you got your 20 gallons of salsa, 2 cases of lettuce, 60 pounds of cheese, 50 pounds of beans, 20 pounds of rice and an endless array of culinary fixins'. Then jus to make sure we weren't stricken with that pesky boredom syndrome, I booked a group of forty-five for six days of breakfast, lunch and dinner. There's something really special about leaving work at midnight and being back at 4:30 a.m. All of my cooks quit at least once during the course of the week, some never actually walked out the door, others walked and came back the next day. Yes ours is a land of extremes. We get some sprinkles of moderation but for the most part it's always "ONE DAMN THING AFTER ANOTHER"! This was my fourth JEEP SAFARI experience and without a doubt, the best one yet. The participants were fun loving and free spending. For those of us that weren't completely recovered from that miserable excuse of a season last year, if it didn't complete the heeling (healing?) process, it certainly put the light at the end of the tunnel in plain view. To the Moab Four Wheelers and all the other folks that work so hard at putting on this event, you done good and thanks! As stifling as these times can be, there are advantages. Something about stuffing money in your pockets has an effect on one's priorities. Just a few weeks ago conversations were chock full of Wilderness Commission, zoning changes and a multitude of other things that we just couldn't let happen. Any conversations I been involved in lately were brief and simply touched on weakened physical condition and monetary gain. It would have been a great week to put tn the tram. It's kinda like that Allan Sherman song, "Camp Granada", You know, "Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda...". The kid at camp goes through a long drawn out rap about So like, HAPPY DAYS! Those that project a constant indescribable tone of horror that was just recently a part of our daily lives have been silenced. Overpowered by the ring of cash registers and sighs of relief. Soon enough, the stress and strain that forges our existence will catch up and once again have us by the short hairs. Meanwhile, I suggest to one and all, "ENJOY"! Since of course, being directly involved in the tourist industry, there is no doubt some bias on my part, I have taken the liberty of asking William Schultz a well respected member of our community and practicing attorney to comment on our world through his eyes. It is my sincere hope that he has accomplished this task cause I got to go get it and bring this over to Stiles. If not, excuse my shortness. See Yal (Editor's note: We never heard from Mr. Schultz; at last report Big Bill had been abducted by a band of Deadheads and was being held incommunicado at an undisclosed location.) By the time we got here, Marooney was gone... But his FOOTPRINTS were everywhere!
	<<Prev Home PDF Next>>